


moldy ceilings and forehead kisses.

by Idjit_01



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ...I'm in a mood, Caring Castiel (Supernatural), Depressed Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26623678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idjit_01/pseuds/Idjit_01
Summary: The ceiling is white with yellowish spots and paint breaking to the point any light breeze could blow it away. Any second now it could fall into Dean's eye and he doesn't really care.It's dark and silent.Everything is unreal. He hates it.OR Dean is sad and alone and can't sleep, but someone comes along to help him get through it.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	moldy ceilings and forehead kisses.

The ceiling is white with yellowish spots and paint breaking to the point any light breeze could blow it away. Any second now it could fall into Dean's eye and he doesn't really care.

It's dark and silent.

Everything is unreal. He hates it.

For once, he isn't thinking about the past, about Sam or Cas or Alistair or Lisa or Chuck. He isn't thinking about their current problems or the future or how they'll deal with everything that's to come.

He isn't mourning who he couldn't save nor feeling guilty over kick-starting the apocalypse or killing innocent monsters or hurting so many people when he wasn't on his right mind.

He isn't thinking about Benny, the blood, the goo, the trees and the starts. About the hunger and dehydration and not worrying over anything but the present.

He's just looking at the ceiling, face slack, waiting for sleep.

He should be sleeping, he's already lost a few of the four hours he usually gets if he wants to wake up when he usually does.

He wants a beer or ten, but he won't take it, because he doesn't want to wake up with a headache again.

He doesn't want people, or sex; it's too much work and, anyway, it's pointless.

His mind is blank. He should be asleep. 

But he can't. He's missing something.

He thinks of crying, but that would make him too vulnerable and he doesn't want to be _that_ uncomfortable.

He thinks of Sam, but he isn't a kid who needs comfort. He can't call.

He's just... Weirdly sad. Too full of emotion to sleep.

He'd say he feels empty as he feels cold inside, but that's not really true. He just feels cold inside and incredibly homesick for a place that doesn't exist.

There's a fly in his room.

It's buzzing and buzzing and getting on his nerves.

But he doesn't want to kill it. It's pointless. End the fly's life... For what?

It won't make him feel better. Just more alone.

At least now he has some background noise, something new to focus on.

His body hurts. His mattress —not memory foam— creaks, he can see the parking lot through the curtainless motel room— There's a hole in his sheet. It's near his knee and pretty big and empty and messy as if it was mocking him, being a representation of himself.

Sammy is out. This is one of those rare cases where he's the one who gets the girl. 

Sammy's bed is empty as well, clean and _perfect_.

He really wants it all to stop.

He hates feeling how he does right now.

There's anger there too, towards himself and his vulnerability.

He's not a girl on her period. _Why_ the hell is he so emotional? He shouldn't be this way.

He wants to shoot himself. 

He really needs to pee.

He doesn't want to.

So he doesn't.

The ceiling is... Dirty. There's mold on it. There's a motor running through the highway. There's smoke outside the window now; a figure attached to it.

Dean wants to hurt. He wants to shut it all out.

 _Why_ the hell can't he sleep?

He wants... Something. He _needs something_.

There's a 'whoosh' sound near the window.

He knows what it is. He _really_ doesn't want to deal with it.

He covers his head with the sheet. His feet freeze. He ignores it.

He feels hot breath above him, like someone's hovering over him.

Soft lips bury in his hair. A warm hand settles on his knee; only after that the lips leave.

Something covers his feet. 

He doesn't need to pee anymore.

It's... Warm. It's better. 

He closes his eyes.

When he opens his eyes again, it's because he feels like he's being blinded.

The shower's running and Sammy's bed is covered with clothes and papers.

There's a note on the nightstand.

" _Dean_ ", it says, " _sorry I couldn't take the pain away_."

Dean furrows his brows and looks around.

Cas's trenchcoat is covering his feet, halfway to the ground.

Dean takes it, squeezes it over his chest and breathes in. It smells like Cas.

He still hurts a bit... But it smells like Cas. He's warm and Sam's home. Everything still feels pointless, but it's okay. It smells good.

He has a case to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Very short, very quick written. Because I'm sad.  
> But it'll pass. Everything will eventually be fine. Hopefully. 
> 
> I hope you like it and find the comfort we all seek.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading :D


End file.
